Room 105
by Akirelee
Summary: He had put other friendships in that position before, other girls. But he valued her differently. More.


I don't own any rights to these characters, of course. The plot, however, is an original idea I came up with while I was supposed to be studying for a very important test. This story takes place after the events of How Trina Got In and may contain plot spoilers in reference to anything that has happened up to that point.

Room 105: When Tori reveals devastating news to Andre it threatens to change the nature of their relationship forever...that is, if he lets it. Will he? Excerpt: 'Baby.' His term of endearment only for her. He had only used it to express friendly intentions, he had never told her that he always wished it could mean something greater. He was not the type to break the 'contractual' bindings of a friendly relationship. He couldn't bare the idea of ruining their friendship if it didn't work out. He had put other friendships in that position before, other girls. But he valued her differently. More.

Room 105

"Someone has been in here. I can...WHERE IS MY CUSTOM BLUE CHEESE HARMONICA REPLICA?"

Theory of Music History at Hollywood Arts typically began this way these days. Mrs. Haeffer, his first period teacher and a woman who was known for rarely finishing sentences, was fuming. This was the third time this week someone had snuck into her classroom and supposedly made off with something she had an irregular (albeit imaginary) attachment to.

Well, there was no doubt someone had been creeping around. Andre picked up his own worn music journal, where he jotted down any arrangement that came to mind without hesitation, and returned it to it's normal place on the piano rack. As for the alleged theft, that was all a part of her her personal psyche. She was a musical savant, sure, but he doubted the harmonica, delicious as it sounded, had ever existed. Haeffer wasn't exactly known to court reality, but he still didn't miss a beat as he took responsibility for it's disappearance.

"It was me, alright!" He shouted dramatically, "I ate it with a mouth-watering side of hot wings and a Mr. Pib!"

"Andre!" Mrs. Haeffer shouted, shocked. "I can't believe you would...you know I will have to punish you...!"

"Ergh, I know." Andre replied sadly, he plopped down onto his usual cushion behind Sinjin, doing an excellent job of pretending to be ashamed. Of the regulars, he had this class with only Cat and Tori. Cat probably didn't bother to doubt the unlikely reality of a harmonica crafted solely of blue cheese. She sat cross legged on her own knit cushion and hanked a chocolate bunny out of her bra, handing it to him as if it would make all better. Andre unwrapped it slowly, carefully not making eye contact with his other friend.

Tori laid belly down on a purple cushion behind Cat. He could tell she was staring at him. He hadn't been sneaking into the Music Theory classroom. Anyone paying any attention would realize as much. Every morning before school he dropped his grandmother off at Adult Yoga. The janitor didn't even open the doors to Hollywood Arts until after 6 o'clock, when he was still in West Hollywood. There was no way he could be the culprit. She knew that. And he knew that. Because he knew it was her. He didn't ask why. They were friends, if something was going on that she didn't come to him about, he respected that it was serious. She didn't need a detention on top of whatever she was dealing with. And she didn't need to stare him down quietly wondering why he had once again covered for her. Didn't she realize there was nothing he wouldn't do for her? With or without explanation? She stared at him as if she believed she owed him one. He didn't require it. Tomorrow, when she had once again snuck into Room 105 and set his journal awry he would again tell Mrs. Haeffer it was he who deserved punishment regardless of whether or not she ever entrusted her secret distress to him or not.

Class continued uneventfully, by the time it came to a close Andre had powered through nine more chocolate bunnies in the same fashion as the first.

"Mr. Harris," Mrs. Haeffer dug through her large felt purse, Andre was certain he heard a cat yowl from within its depths, and pulled out a giant needle and thread.

"Why do you have-"

"-you will be staying behind to affix ALL the windows in this classroom shut!" She forced the equipment into his hands just as the bell rang.

"How can I possibly-?"

"DO IT!" She ordered, removing a flute from the purse that looked suspiciously like it was carved out of pot roast and carrying it out lovingly.

"Oh man!" Andre cried out ludicrously, staring from the shiny needle to the open windows as the class emptied out. He trotted over to them and began to pull them shut.

"Why did you lie for me?"

Andre could see Tori peripherally but wasn't deterred from his task. "Why not?" He could see their gang of friends eating lunch in the quad one story below. Jade was sorting through the contents of her Saw lunchbox. Mid-conversation with Robbie, Beck leaned over and opened her wasabi sauce, seemingly without being asked. He didn't otherwise acknowledge her in any way. Jade stabbed a fork in it with much more enthusiasm than she subsequently ate and Andre knew the death of that gelatinous red substance was the highlight of her creepy little day.

"Because it got you in trouble...again!" Tori replied guiltily.

Andre poked the metal window frame with his needle uselessly, "how am I supposed to-"

"-_Andre_!" Tori admonished.

"Look, girl, trouble is being unable to find an empty bathroom stall at San Juan's Chinese Bistro after happy hour! This..." He wagged the needle in her face, looking at her at last, "is just another day at Hollywood Arts."

"Well, at least let me help you!" She said, she grabbed his hand and tried to pry the thread from it. He couldn't say in good confidence that the gentleness with which she operated was strictly due to her being a girl. It wasn't right. Her hands shook, trembled even. His supplies clattered to the floor as he used his newly emptied hands to pin her own to her sides.

"No, no, Tori. If you don't get out of here you'll miss your lunch. Again." He said, he wasn't sure why he felt she so vitally needed to eat. This was the first time he had seen her up close in a long while and was really able to pay attention. Not that he didn't always pay attention to her, he did so regularly, but she had been very elusive as of late...he couldn't even remember the last time they were alone together for more than a few seconds. He probed his memory. ...When was the last time she had even engaged him in a personal conversation...? Andre stared into Tori's eyes, around them, at the tops of her high cheekbones and corners of her red lips. She looked like, for lack of a better word, waste. Tori looked like she was wasting away. Andre closed his gaping mouth and wet his lips, trying to understand what he was seeing.

Tori had been so strange these days. He was the only one to notice, but that was just because he always noticed everything about her. Her walk, her hair, her voice, her smile. He was aware the second that smile became less genuine. Less brilliant. He always waited for it to reach her eyes, lately he was less and less surprised each time it didn't.

"Baby. What's wrong?" Andre asked at last, his hands still holding Tori's at her sides as if he was worried she would run away if he did not keep a firm hold on her.

'Baby.' His term of endearment only for her. He had only used it to express friendly intentions, he had never told her that he always wished it could mean something greater. But he was not the type to break the 'contractual' bindings of a friendly relationship. He could never bare the idea of ruining their friendship if it didn't work out. He had put other friendships in that position before, other girls. But he valued her differently. More.

"I..." Tori's lip trembled and she looked up and away, not out the window, where their friends ate happily below, but somewhere behind her own eyelids. A place he could not see.

"What is it, V?" He was the only one who ever called her this. His name for her when they were alone.

"A." She replied. Her joking name for him. She smiled small. "A. _Andre. I_...you know my father has been sick...?"

This was true. He did know this. Everyone did. Mr. Vega had been diagnosed with an uncommon disease a few months ago. He needed a new kidney, but had a rare blood type. All his relatives were tested to see if they were a match, including his daughters, but none were compatible, causing him to be added to the donor registry with the sad realization that the likelihood of a match was slim. "Yeah, baby. I know. I thought you were dealing with that, though. Trina's been..."

"...Trina doesn't' know...that my father and I...I _am _a match to my father's blood."

"_What_? Well, that's great, isn't it? You can help him-"

"-he wont _let _me."

Andre couldn't hide his confusion.

"He won't _let _me give him my kidney. He won't let me save his life!"

Andre raised a hand to Tori's face, to her chin, trying to steady her trembling lip. "Why not?" He asked, aghast.

She lowered her lip to his finger for a temporary second, covering her mouth with his hand. She took a long breath. "Because he doesn't want me to take that chance to keep him alive..." She replied slowly.

"Lots of people donate kidneys, though, Tori!" said Andre in disbelief. He could feel her breath on his hand, he ignored the way that made him feel, trying to focus on the conversation at hand and the very real need in his best friend's chocolate eyes. "The quality of their life isn't even all that diminished. He can't...he can't expect you to live with the choice of letting him _die _just so you can...so you can become an Olympic figure skater some day or something. He has to know he means more to you than that...!"

"Andre." Tori said slowly. "_A_." She closed the small space between them by taking a single step and rested her face in the crook of his neck. He could feel wetness. She was crying. "He doesn't want me to give him my kidney because he thinks I will need it."


End file.
